


Glowing Dim As An Ember

by Sokkas_First_Fangirl



Series: Once Upon A December (Anastasia AU) [4]
Category: Animaniacs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997 & Broadway) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Amnesia, Angst, Child Neglect, Dreams and Nightmares, Friendship, Growing Up, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Orphanage, Other, Prequel, Verbal Abuse, Yakko Warner Needs a Hug, Yakko-centric, the power of hope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokkas_First_Fangirl/pseuds/Sokkas_First_Fangirl
Summary: This was what it meant to be Elo: it was the nagging knowledge that his name wasn’t right, that it wasn’t the name his parents (whoever they were) had given him. It meant trying to understand how you could wake up one day with no idea of who you were. Being Elo meant dealing with the knowledge that you were all alone in the world.But not entirely. Because there was Burbank. "Together in Burbank," his pendant read, and Elo would hold onto that with all his might.Being Elo meant clinging to hope, until that one hope was ingrained into you, until it was a part of you.He was Elo. And maybe that didn’t mean anything to the orphanage’s staff, but it meant everything to him.*For five years, Yakko believed his name was Elo, an orphan with no true name and no memories. For five years, he held onto hope that he'd escape to Burbank and find his family. But what happened in those five years?Or: Yakko, memoryless, grows from a lonely, frightened child into a teenager, stubborn and brave, and stronger than any of them know.
Relationships: Yakko Warner & Original Character(s)
Series: Once Upon A December (Anastasia AU) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095389
Comments: 30
Kudos: 42





	1. Elo

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, yes, did anyone order angst and hurt/comfort with a side of fluff? No? Well you're getting it!  
> We're back with Yakko-centric content, in which we see Elo grow up from the ages of nine to fourteen. Now, this one *will* be only a few chapters, I swear 😅
> 
> Songs I listened to while writing:  
> In My Dreams, from Anastasia on Broadway  
> All Is Found, from Frozen 2  
> Thousand Eyes, by Of Monsters And Men

__

_“Rain against a window, sheets upon a bed; terrifying nurses whispering overhead.”_ \- Anastasia: Broadway

  
  
  


His name was Elo. Elo, Elo, Elo, it was _his_ now, _his name._ After a week of wandering aimlessly, he finally had a name of his own.

Well, he wasn’t quite wandering _aimlessly._ He knew what his aim was: to get to Burbank. When he said so, the head matron scoffed at him.

“No one’s leaving Warnerstock anytime soon,” she said, frowning at him like he was a big nuisance. “The borders are shut down.”

“Why?” Elo asked, hands on his hips, nose in the air.

“To stop people leaving, obviously. And wipe that look off your face, boy.”

“My name’s _Elo._ ”

Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “For pity’s sake, go make yourself useful,” she snapped, waving him away. 

Elo rolled his eyes, marching away with his head held high.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The orphanage was mostly okay, but it was obvious the staff were freaking out. He heard them muttering together about sudden budget cuts and lack of supplies; whatever they had was quickly dwindling as more and more kids arrived. All of them had lost their parents, or whatever guardians they’d had, in the recent invasion.

More facts to add to Elo’s ever-growing list.

Fact: they’d been invaded last week, by a man called Salazar. 

Fact: King William and Queen Angelina were dead. (And this thought made Elo’s chest tighten, it made him feel sick.)

More facts: the borders were closed, no one was allowed in or out of Warnerstock for the foreseeable future. Elo was not his real name, it was a name chosen at random by one of their teachers, Marge. He didn’t know his name. He’d woken up on train tracks in Acme Falls, with not a clue as to who he was or how he’d gotten there. He didn’t know who his family was. The orphanage was quickly becoming crowded and their funds had been stopped by Salazar; the staff were waiting for him to decide what to do with them.

Well, Elo wasn’t entirely clueless, truth be told. He had his pendant.

He’d woken up with only a small bag of clothes and a pendant. The clothes were clearly his, they all fit him perfectly. As for the pendant, it was his one clue. On the back of his pendant were the words _Together In Burbank._

Whoever had given the necklace to him must have loved him. It was beautiful: a little jewel-studded star on a thin gold chain, glittering whenever it caught the light. 

_Together In Burbank._

His family had to be in Burbank. At the very least, whoever had given him the necklace was in Burbank. But Elo was stuck in Warnerstock, and the matrons had taken what little money he’d had.

Every day, he looked at the globe in Marge’s classroom and stared at Burbank. He didn’t think it looked too far from Warnerstock. Not too far at all. He just had to figure out how to get there.

  
  
  
  
  
  


He was only at the orphanage for a few days when a man in red and gold arrived and went up to the head matron’s office. He had papers and they were up there talking for a long time. Some of the older kids sat at the top of the stairs and tried to listen in.

Elo stayed in the living room with most of the others and kept to the back of the room. Every instinct screamed at him to not let Salazar’s man see him. These people had invaded them and killed so many people; he couldn’t get the red snow from his mind. He didn’t want someone who could do that to look at him.

So he stayed where he was and played with the other kids. He could dimly hear the matron’s voice raising, though she quickly quietened down again.

Elo couldn’t imagine what would make her back down. The head matron was fierce and had a short temper, but it didn’t sound like she was doing much shouting now.

Eventually one of the older girls, a human named Violet crept back down the stairs. She looked worried, tugging on one of her braids.

“They’re still at it,” she said, announcing the obvious.

“What’s going on anyway?” a cat-boy named Tyler asked, lounging by the fire.

Violet shrugged. “Something about a new budget,” she said. “I think the new King’s stopping the money we used to get.”

Everyone got quiet then. Elo looked around and saw that everyone looked worried, biting their lips or looking away towards the windows, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Elo was missing his memories, he wasn’t _stupid._ No money meant no food.

He crouched against the wall, twisting the chain of his necklace around his hands, flipping the pendant around and around. Even when he’d first arrived, Marge had been grumbling about a lack of schoolroom supplies; she’d said the old budget was fine. Whatever it had been, it had been good and now King Salazar was taking it away too.

Elo hated him. He said so, and Violet frantically shook her head.

“Don’t let them hear you say that, Elo,” she warned in a whisper. “You’ll get into big trouble.”

“I don’t care,” Elo grumbled.

“You should,” Violet said. “You really should.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


The man didn’t leave for hours. When he did finally leave he didn’t spare anyone a second glance; he just marched right out the front door, climbed onto his waiting horse and left.

The head matron looked flustered, her chest heaving, her cheeks red with anger. 

“Well,” she said briskly to everyone and no one. “That’s that. Our budget’s been cut- by more than half I might add.”

The staff all began to protest loudly, talking over each other.

“SHUT UP!” the matron yelled. She glared at the gathered staff and jerked her head towards the stairs. “In my office,” she ordered. “We’ll discuss it there.”

“What’re we gonna do?” Elo heard Marge whisper. 

“We’ll think of something,” the head matron answered flatly. She went back upstairs, the adults all following in her wake. Some of them grumbled and complained, but much more quietly now. The rest just looked stunned.

“Not good,” Tyler said.

“No,” another boy named John said. “Not good at all.”

Elo held his necklace tight and tried to ignore the pit growing in his stomach.

_Burbank,_ he reminded himself. _You’re going to Burbank._

  
  
  
  
  
  


The very next day, the head matron called him upstairs. One of the gardeners (well, Elo was pretty sure he was a gardener- he sometimes trimmed the grass, but didn’t do much else) and one of the teachers were standing in one of the classrooms.

Elo instantly had a bad feeling about this.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, using the tone of voice that the other matrons and teachers told him off for. He clutched his necklace and held his head high. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, Mr High And Mighty,” the teacher said in disapproval. “What have we told you about taking that tone with us?”

“Never mind that,” the head matron said. She was smiling, something Elo hadn’t seen her do yet. “Elo, you’re making friends here, aren’t you, dear?”

_Dear?_

He frowned at her. “Yes,” he said.

“And you wouldn’t want them to go hungry, would you?”

“Uuuhh, _no,_ obviously.”

“Good boy,” the head matron said. “That’s a very pretty necklace.”

Heart sinking, Elo glanced at the door. “Thanks,” he said, edging away. “I should-” He broke off with a startled yelp when the gardener and teacher grabbed him by the arms. 

“Get off me!” Elo shouted, kicking against them to no avail. “Let me go!”

“Come now, don’t be selfish, don’t you want to help your new little friends?” The head matron’s voice was sickeningly sweet. Elo’s heart was pounding, there was an odd rushing noise in his ears and his breathing hitched awkwardly.

“Stop it!” he screamed.

They held his arms tight, holding him in place, as the head matron tried to snatch his necklace. Elo twisted and kicked in their grip, trying to pull away. He knew, _he just knew_ what would happen if they took his necklace: they’d take it away, they’d sell it, he’d never see it again.

It was _his,_ it was his only clue, it was all he had.

_They couldn’t have it._

Elo snarled, his blood boiling.

_They couldn’t touch him._

This was _his_ necklace, and they were not allowed to have it, they weren’t allowed to lay a hand on him.

And so Elo did the only thing he could think to do; he threw his head back and screamed at the top of his lungs.

_“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”_

It was like the world screamed with him. The classroom immediately erupted into chaos around them. Power erupted from him, power he didn’t even know he had.

As he screamed, the windows in the room all shattered, exploding outwards. Anvils appeared from nowhere, crashing from the ceiling to the floor, nearly crashing through the floor into the rooms below entirely; one, two, three, four, five of them in quick succession. 

Elo stomped his foot and the floor cracked underneath him. A big boot nearly the size of his head appeared and kicked the gardener square in the stomach. He jerked away, wheezing, and fell against the wall. The teacher had the good sense to flee, screaming, “God save us, he’s gone mad!”

All the while, Elo kept screaming. He screamed and screamed even as his throat began to ache, even though he was quickly starting to feel sick.

_Together in Burbank, Together in Burbank, Together in Burbank._

He wouldn’t let them take this away from him.

_“Stop that!”_ the head matron shrieked. She grabbed Elo roughly by the ears and raised her hand. “Stop that this instant, you stupid brat!” She brought her hand down sharply-

And stopped just short of slapping him. Elo’s voice cracked and he stopped screaming, sobbing in sudden exhaustion, though his eyes stayed dry. The matron looked at her own hand with wide eyes, like she wasn’t quite sure what it was. She gulped, she scowled and she grabbed Elo by the shoulders, shaking him harshly until his eyes rolled.

“What were you thinking!?” she demanded. “Are you trying to get us all killed?”

“You can’t have it,” Elo managed to gasp. He pushed at her with one hand, keeping a tight grip on his necklace with the other. “You ever try that again and I’ll do worse, I swear!”

It was an empty threat. He wasn’t even sure what he’d just done, or how he’d done it. 

He hadn’t realised he had toon-powers.

“You ever try that again,” the matron snarled in kind. “And _I’ll_ do worse.” She grabbed him by the ears again and hauled him away, out of the classroom and down the hall, up the narrow stairs. She flung open a door and threw Elo inside.

It was the attic.

“You can stay here for the rest of the day,” she snapped. “And think very carefully about your behaviour.”

“You can’t keep me in here,” Elo said; his voice came out steadier than he could have hoped, almost a demand. He didn’t sound nearly as frightened as he felt.

“Just watch me.”

She slammed the door shut and locked it. The click of the key in the lock echoed in Elo’s ears. He flung himself at the door, kicking and punching.

“Let me out!” he shouted. “You let me out right now!”

“Shut your mouth, you worthless brat!” she screamed back, losing whatever was left of her fragile calm. “Or you’ll be in there all of tomorrow too!”

She marched away, leaving him there.

Shakily, Elo sank to his knees, both fists still resting against the door. Eyes stinging, chest heaving, he tried to summon that burst of power again; he tried to imagine anvils, or a key of his own.

Nothing happened.

He’d seen other kids summon things; water balloons, pies, apples and peanuts; mallets, banana peels and whoopie cushions. He hadn’t seen anyone else summon an anvil.

Elo hadn’t known he could do that. That week on the street, he hadn’t even realised toon-powers were a thing. These few days in the orphanage, he’d tried to copy the other kids with no luck.

And now he’d just wrecked an entire room.

And now he was all alone in a dark, gloomy attic. There were no windows, no lights. Just Elo and some storage boxes.

Elo stayed kneeling on the floor, trying to catch his breath, trying to calm his racing heart and mind. _How had he done that?_

He didn’t have any answers.

Eventually, Elo hauled himself to his feet and sat on one of the boxes, curling up small with his back pressed against the wall, holding his necklace so tightly that the edges of the star pendant dug into his palms. It stung but he barely noticed, he didn’t care.

He still had it and that was what mattered. He wouldn’t ever let anyone take it away from him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


This was what it meant to be Elo: it was the nagging knowledge that his name wasn’t right, that it wasn’t the name his parents (whoever they were) had given him. It meant trying to understand how you could wake up one day with no idea of who you were. Being Elo meant dealing with the knowledge that you were all alone in the world.

But not entirely. Because there was Burbank. _Together in Burbank,_ his pendant read, and Elo would hold onto that with all his might.

Being Elo meant clinging to hope, until that one hope was ingrained into you, until it was a part of you.

He was Elo. And maybe that didn’t mean anything to the orphanage’s staff, but it meant _everything_ to him.

He was Elo, and he belonged in Burbank; and somehow, someway, he’d get there. Somehow, he’d find his family. It was something that even the orphanage’s staff and this nightmarish King Salazar couldn’t take from him.

_Elo, Elo, Elo, his name was Elo._

Locked in the attic, staring at the wall, Elo vowed to himself that he’d get out of here and, when he did, he’d find his family. He’d go home.


	2. Fairytales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was on a rare trip off the orphanage's grounds that Elo found his second-most treasured possession: his book of fairytales.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just how did Yakko ever find his book?

_“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.”_ \- Sleeping Beauty

  
  
  


It was a bright spring day; after a solid week of rain it was finally warm and sunny. Marge, easily Elo’s favourite member of staff, announced she intended to take the children for a day out in the park.

The head matron just rolled her eyes and said to “Keep them out of my hair, Marge.”

And so Marge organised them all: she packed what food they could afford to spare for lunch and two other teachers joined them; the art teacher, Philip, and their English and History teacher, Beatrice. They got the kids all lined up in the orphanage’s front garden, the youngest kids at the front and the eldest at the back, with Marge and Philip leading the way and Beatrice bringing up the rear. It was a warm day, but after all the rain there were still puddles everywhere and water dripping from the tree branches, sticking to the grass.

It was little over a year since Elo had arrived at the orphanage. Other than his failed attempts to run away, he hadn’t been off the grounds. It may only have been a trip to a nearby park, but he couldn’t help but be excited. 

There was a pang of disappointment as they walked in the opposite direction of Acme Falls. Elo hadn’t seen it in a year, and he rather wanted to go back.

_(He wanted to see if the train station was open, he wanted to know how much a ticket would cost, he wanted to know how to get to the docks and how long it would take to get there, he needed to know, he needed to plan.)_

Birds were chirping overhead and Elo marched along with the other kids. It wasn’t in his nature to stay quiet for long, so he was soon pointing out everything that caught his interest to Tyler.

To be fair, Tyler was just the same, happily babbling away and pointing out oddly-shaped trees or particularly bright birds. 

There was an air of suppressed excitement about the whole group. Elo had no idea how long it had been since any of the others had been outside the grounds. Judging by their faces, it had been ages.

They walked down the big dirt-packed road, dodging puddles; they walked over hills and through a field until they reached a tiny playground. It had a small slide and two swings, a few wooden picnic tables and benches. 

“Alright, kids,” Marge said. “Go on and have some fun.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Even the biggest, eldest kids about to leave the orphanage for work rushed off, towards the swings and slide. Plenty of the others were content to just sprint around on the damp grass doing cartwheels and handstands, Elo among them.

Laughing, he cartwheeled over to the slide, Tyler running by his side. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was the best afternoon Elo had had since he woke up on those train tracks. There was no shouting, no insults; no head matron to lock him away, no other matrons or teachers calling him useless or crazy. Even the meaner kids were in good moods; no one was hit or bullied today. 

It was a warm day, they had a pretty good lunch ready and waiting; there were no boring old lessons (because so many of the teachers were _boring,_ Elo couldn’t help but feel like they made otherwise interesting subjects very dull) and no chores. It was just a fun day out, a day to play nonstop and no one told him off for running or being loud, no one told him to sit down and shut up.

He was playing tag with some of the others when he found the fairytale book.

It was half-lying in a small puddle; it had a lavender cover and a slightly cracked spine. It was a rather big book, a heavy book. When Elo picked it up and flicked through its pages, he found plenty of fairytales inside: _Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, Princess And The Frog, Princess And The Pea, The Little Mermaid..._ And more, many more. They were all illustrated, though a lot of the pictures were faded. It wasn’t a new book, far from it. Even then, it looked old. Some of the pages were wrinkled.

It couldn’t have been there long, Elo knew, or else it would have been utterly ruined by the rain and the puddle. As it was, he tried to dry it as best he could, using his shirt.

Elo knelt on the damp grass, running his hand over an illustration of a prince and princess dancing. They were surrounded by an admiring crowd, a border of roses around the illustration; the princess’s hair was as gold as her crown. 

It made his head feel funny. Not quite dizzy, but he didn’t feel _right._ For a moment he thought...He could have sworn he was-

_Dancing across a brightly polished floor, lights glittering overhead, beautifully dressed people all around him. Someone took his hand and he turned around, and-_

“What’cha got there?” Tyler asked, snapping him out of it.

“A book,” said Elo, holding it close to his chest. The matrons had taken most of the clothes he’d arrived in and shared them with the other kids close to his size; he didn’t mind that part much, though he still snarled when the staff so much as _looked_ at his pendant. But…

But, other than his pendant, he didn’t have anything else. Just his pendant and what few outfits he was given. Their supplies were dwindling all the time. They didn’t have art class anymore.

Elo wanted something that was _his._ Something that wasn’t ill-fitting clothes.

Smiling, he held onto the book as tight as he could.

“What do you have, Elo?” Marge asked when he sat down for lunch.

“A book,” Elo repeated.

Marge glanced at it, looking faintly surprised. There was an awful moment where Elo wondered if even kindly Marge would say he couldn’t have it- but she just shrugged.

“Enjoy it,” she said.

He fully intended to.

  
  
  
  
  
  


When they finally trooped back to the orphanage, Elo went in search of a towel. He rubbed the book down fully until it was bone dry. Smiling, he sat on his bed and looked at it properly; some of the pages were dog-earred, the spine was cracked. The illustrations were all very pretty, but some were beginning to fade at the edges. The title of the book, in grey letters, simply proclaimed _The Big Book of Fairytales._ It wasn’t brand new, but it was _his_ now; he had something of his own, something to occupy his time that wasn’t a long list of chores.

He hadn’t read any of these stories before.

_(But maybe he had,_ before. _Before the invasion, before he lost his memories. Maybe his mysterious parents had read them to him, or another family member.)_

Elo was excited to start. 

He sat there reading, all alone in the dorm. He started with _Sleeping Beauty,_ then _Cinderella,_ and moved onto _Aladdin._ He’d just started reading _Rapunzel_ when one of the smaller kids, a five-year-old toon named Nathan poked his head around the door.

“Tyler said you found a book,” he said.

“Yup,” Elo said happily, holding it up for Nathan to see.

“Is it good?” Nathan asked.

“Yup,” Elo repeated, nodding.

Nathan’s smile was shy. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” Elo said, scooting over to make room for the kid. Nathan climbed onto his narrow bed, staring at the illustrations, his little mouth hanging open. 

Elo began to read aloud, while Nathan mouthed the words, leaning in close to get a better look at the pages.

  
  
  
  
  
  


It started a tradition. Nathan told all the others and, soon enough, all the little kids were crowding around Elo, eagerly asking him to read to them. They called out requests for their favourite stories, talking over each other in an effort to be heard.

So Elo brought his book downstairs and sat by the window in the living room. The little kids crowded around and so did a lot of the kids his own age; even the older kids lingered, listening in and trying to pretend they weren’t.

Elo held the book up with a grin.

“Any requests?” he asked.

The shouts started; _“Cinderella!” “Princess And The Pea!” “Thumbelina!”_

Smiling, Elo began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, Elo's escape attempts over the years


	3. Run Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elo planned on getting to Burbank, one way or another.  
> A glimpse at his escape attempts over the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yakko didn't just sit quietly in the orphanage all that time; he tried to get out. Here's a look at his "main" attempts, the big ones
> 
> Songs I listened to while writing:  
> Heart Of Stone, from Six: The Musical  
> Because Of You, by Kelly Clarkson  
> Runaway, by Pink  
> Nobody's Home, by Avril Lavigne  
> The Light Behind Your Eyes, by My Chemical Romance  
> Titanium, by Madilyn Bailey

_“You can build me up, you can tear me down, you can try but I'm unbreakable. You can do your best, but I'll stand the test; you'll find that I'm unshakeable.”_ \- Six: The Musical

  
  
  


_Age 9…_

The first time Elo tried to run away was three days after they tried to take his necklace. He’d been wondering about going anyway, but when it came down to it his first escape attempt was quite spur of the moment.

He was in the garden with some of the others, having a snowball fight. The snow was starting to melt, mostly slush, but they still enjoyed flinging it at each other.

Then one of the gardeners opened the front gate to let a small cart of supplies in- and it _was_ a small cart. They really hadn’t been joking when they said the budget was cut.

Elo may not have been able to use his powers, but he was quick. He threw one last snowball and ducked behind a tree, keeping one eye on the other kids and one eye on the cart. The driver was talking with the gardener and unloading a few boxes; there was still plenty left on the cart.

When the two men began to haul the boxes inside the orphanage, Elo jumped into the cart, pulled a sheet over himself and hid behind a crate. 

_Just like the alley,_ he told himself. He tried to keep very still, holding his pendant tightly. He wished he could have gone back inside to grab some more clothes, but it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t moving now.

The driver came back, snapped his horse’s reins and the cart began to move. In moments, they were outside the gate; Elo heard the gardener close it behind them and lock it.

Just like that, he was out.

He wanted to laugh, but he knew he had to keep quiet. He was out, he was out! Soon he’d jump out and head back to Acme Falls and find the train station. 

Just his luck that a wheel on the cart came loose.

They drove over a pot-hole and the whole cart juddered; the wheel made a loud popping noise as it nearly snapped off. The driver swore loudly, making his horse stop. The cargo in the back slipped from left to right, and Elo along with it; his head banged off a crate and helped, _“Ow!”_

_Uh oh._

The sheet was pulled back and the driver gaped down at him. Luckily, he must have found it funny, because he laughed, in a shocked kind of way.

“Alright,” he said. “What in god’s name do you think you’re doing, kid?”

“Going to Acme Falls,” Elo said honestly, because there didn’t seem much point in lying about it. “I'm going to Burbank. I gotta find my family.”

The driver gave him a look of pity, shaking his head. He began to fix the wheel, but when Elo tried to climb off the cart he said, “Nuh-uh, you stay there, kid. I’ve gotta take you back home.”

“That’s what _I’m_ trying to do!” Elo said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I’m tryin’ to go home!”

“You’re gonna get yourself killed running off by yourself,” the driver said bluntly. “Look, there’s some bread in that crate there; help yourself, you look like you need it.”

Truth be told, Elo didn’t have much of an appetite. He tried to climb down again, but the driver took him firmly by the arm and kept a hold of him, trying to fix the wheel one-handed.

“Reckless little guy,” the driver said, half amused and half fed-up. “You can’t go running off on your own.”

He made Elo sit up front on the drive back to the orphanage. They were only ten minutes away, much to Elo’s disappointment. It had taken ages to get from Acme Falls to the orphanage; even if he managed to run off now he didn’t know how far he was from the road he needed.

As the orphanage came back into view, Elo shrank back. He was dead, he was so dead; they were gonna lock him in the attic again.

But to his relief, when the driver called out for the kids to fetch someone, they came back with Marge.

She opened the gate, the creases in her forehead deepening as she looked at Elo. She held her hand out with a disappointed frown. Feeling very small and stupid, Elo took it and let her help him down.

“Thank you, sir,” Marge said, nodding at the driver.

“You’ll wanna keep an eye on that one,” the driver said. He still looked a little amused. “He’s a stubborn one.”

“Noted,” Marge said dryly. She locked the gate and brought Elo inside. They stood in the entryway, staring at each other. Elo braced himself for yelling, or even slapping; he’d seen one of the matrons slap sixteen-year-old Carmen for sneaking extra food, and Carmen had been even taller than the matron in question.

But Marge only sighed deeply, holding tightly to Elo’s shoulders.

“You can’t do that again,” she said firmly. She looked tired. “I know you don’t like it here, Elo, but you can’t run away like that.”

He didn’t see why not. It wasn’t like any of them wanted him here.

Scowling, Elo said, “And why not?”

“You just can’t, buddy. It’s too dangerous.” She gave him a limp little smile. “Look, I won’t say anything, okay? It’ll be our secret.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Age 10…_

His next serious attempt came on an absolutely rotten day.

Tyler, Nina, Luke, Buddy and Suzy were _all_ being adopted. All of them would be gone by the end of the week and Elo was happy for them, he _was,_ it was a _good_ thing, a great thing! But...But they were his _friends,_ the best friends he had here and they’d all be _gone._

It was scary.

The same people who had chosen Luke had looked at Elo. The lady had smiled, but the head matron instantly said, “You don’t want that one, he’s a trouble-maker.” They hadn’t looked at him again.

“Everyone likes you,” Tyler said, clapping him on the back. “You’ll be adopted in no time!”

Maybe the other kids liked him, but the adults sure didn’t. Only Marge did.

But when Elo went to find her, she was packing her things. For a moment, he watched in bewilderment. Why was she packing? Adults didn’t get adopted.

So then…

Biting his lip, Elo spoke up; “Where’re you going?”

Marge nearly dropped her armful of clothes in surprise. She turned and stared at him with wide eyes. She gave her usual tired smile; she looked like she’d been crying. 

“I have to go, Elo.”

“Why?”

Marge sniffled, packing away the last of her things. She closed her case; the little _snap!_ suddenly seemed far too loud, echoing in Elo’s ears. 

“I...I don’t work here anymore.” Her voice wavered, her smile faltered but she managed to keep it in place. “I’m sorry, buddy. It’s the- it’s the budget cuts. They can’t afford to pay us all, so...So I have to go. I’ve been let go.”

_Let go._ Elo knew that was a polite way of saying _fired._ Two of the gardeners and their art teacher had been _let go_ too.

But this was _Marge._ She’d named him, she was nice to him; she was probably the only adult here who didn’t hate him.

He wanted to scream and cry and break things, but he only managed to croak out, “You _can’t,_ you can’t go.”

“I’m sorry,” Marge repeated. She put her case down and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry, Elo, I’ve gotta go.”

_But you named me; you’re nice to me, you don’t hate me. You’re a good teacher._

“It’s not fair!”

_My friends are going, you can’t go too. I don’t wanna be by myself again._

“I know,” Marge said.

Elo’s eyes narrowed, his fists clenched. There was that odd power burning in his chest again. “This is that stupid King Saladbar’s fault,” he snapped.

“Salazar,” Marge corrected. “His name is Salazar- and Elo, don’t let _anyone_ hear you say that.”

“I don’t _care,_ I _hate_ him!” Elo shouted. A window cracked, steam poured out of his clenched fists. Marge looked at the window with wide eyes.

“Elo!” She took him by the shoulders again, her nails digging in. “Elo, you need to calm down. _Listen to me._ You have to be very, _very_ careful what you say about the King, and-” She took a deep breath, pressing her lips together so tightly they practically vanished. “You’ll be okay. You’re a clever kid.”

He didn’t feel clever. He felt small and useless and alone, just like the others said.

_“You don’t want him, he’s a trouble-maker.”_

_“Useless brat.”_

_“Crazy kid.”_

_“Clueless.”_

_“Worthless little brat.”_

_“He’s a smug know-it-all that one.”_

_“Shut up, Elo, no one wants to hear you yakking on.”_

“Elo?” Marge’s eyes were bright with worry. “You’ll be okay.”

Too right he’d be okay; because if all the people he liked best weren’t staying, then neither was Elo. He was out of here.

  
  
  
  
  
  


He waited until it was nighttime. Suzy had already left with her new parents; Buddy and Tyler would be going tomorrow, then Luke the day after and then finally Nina. Marge had left already too.

Elo had other friends; there were plenty of kids he liked and other kids that liked him, but those five were his _best_ friends, the same age as him; they always played together and sat next to each other in class. Without them, Elo would be back to wandering aimlessly.

Unless he could get to Burbank.

They were going to new families; Elo didn’t have a new family, so why couldn’t he go find his old one? Maybe they were looking for him too, waiting for him.

He just had to get out of here first.

As quietly as he could, Elo climbed out of his bed. He changed from his pyjamas into his clothes and pulled on his coat and hat. He shoved his fairytale book, pyjamas and his two spare shirts and trousers into his cloth-bag and slung it over his shoulder. For a moment, he wondered if he should leave a note or something. Wasn’t that what people usually did?

But he didn’t have time for that and he didn’t want the staff to track him down before he could get onto a train.

_Burbank,_ Elo reminded himself. _Together in Burbank._

He walked out of the room, tip-toeing as quietly as he could. He eased the door shut behind him, holding his breath, trying to stay _quiet, quiet, quiet._

Being quiet, Elo had found, was actually tough work, but it _did_ work. He was out of the dorm. Step one complete. Step two: get outside. Where did the head matron keep her keys? If all else failed he supposed he could try to climb out a window, but it would be way easier if he could just go out the front door and unlock the gate.

Well, he knew some of the keys were kept in the kitchen; the keys for the pantry and the garden shed, but what about the gate? What about the doors?

Elo was stalling against the thought, but he knew. He knew, because he’d seen the matron keep her ring of keys tied to her apron, or placed in her pocket.

The important keys were in her room.

  
  
  
  
  
  


To do Elo credit, he nearly got out. He managed to take the ring of keys from her bedside drawer; they rattled a little and he froze, looking at the head matron with wide eyes, but she only snorted and rolled over.

He’d never been in the matron’s room before. The rest of the orphanage was starting to look a little rough around the edges, but her room was pristine; the remains of a fire still glowed in the grate; it was warm in here, she had a big bed, there were no funny smells or cold spots. 

It made him hate her even more.

Her bedroom door closed just a little too loudly behind him.

He was trying to unlock the gates when a rough hand grabbed him by the ears, lifting him right up into the air.

“And what,” the head matron growled. “Do you think you’re doing?”

Elo closed his eyes, bracing himself for the worst.

  
  
  
  
  
  


He was locked in the attic for the whole week; one of the cooks brought food to him once a day. He wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to his friends. Elo was, as he always feared, left all alone in the dark with nothing to do and no one to talk to.

To be fair to Tyler, he sneaked up the stairs to say goodbye through the door.

And after that, Elo was all alone.

(The one glimmer of light was when a baby girl named Daisy Lapin arrived a week later.)

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Age 11…_

He didn’t make any real efforts to run away for the next year. For a long time, it felt like a lot of his energy had been sapped. All the energy and planning that used to go into running away was now directed towards keeping the little kids happy and entertained.

It was a bright spot. It was something good to do.

Elo still spent a lot of time watching the gate, or walking up and down around the walls, always looking for a weak spot, always wondering where would be the best place to start climbing.

The staff always watched him when he went outside, their suspicious gazes boring into him. If he lingered too long by the gates or walls, someone would come and drag him inside with a strict warning to, _“Get your head out of the clouds and behave yourself.”_

Philip called him a flight risk.

Elo wished he could fly.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Age 12…_

On his next serious attempt, Elo tried to climb out a window.

It was very late at night, past midnight, when he crept from his bed and out of the dorm. The dorm rooms and staff bedrooms were all on the third floor, and without toon powers Elo wasn’t so sure he could safely jump from the windows. What would be the point in getting outside only to break his legs?

He tip-toed down to the second floor and went to the nearest supply closest for bedding and towels; he grabbed an armful of bedsheets and quickly tied them together. This time, he hadn’t wasted time in changing his clothes and he’d packed away his meager belongings during the day.

Elo tied his makeshift rope to the table in front of the window. It had only a small clock on it, its little _tick-tocks_ were the only noise in the hallway. 

The window was locked, but Elo had come prepared: he’d stolen one of Ms Flamiel’s hairpins earlier and he used it now to pick the lock. He threw the sheet-rope out the window and smiled in relief when he saw it was long enough to get him to the ground.

He had one leg out the window when the head matron’s voice said, _“Ahem.”_

Elo froze and swore under his breath. Growling, he looked up and, sure enough, there was the head matron and Philip standing there glaring at him. Standing beside them,with a smug smirk on his face was Baxter, one of the older kids and an out and out _jerk._

“Tattle tale,” Elo spat as Philip pulled him off the windowsill. 

“I told you I heard him,” Baxter said smugly to the matron.

As they hauled him off to the attic, Elo silently vowed vengeance to himself.

(He pranked Baxter every day for a whole month. A lot of the other kids, mostly Elo's friends, froze Baxter out. The staff could never prove it was Elo pranking him, but a lot of them punished him anyway. Stomping up and down in the attic as hard as he could, Elo loudly shouted that it was “worth it to wipe that stupid smirk off his ugly mug!”)

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Age 13…_

Elo was already locked in the attic this time, for replacing the head matron's shampoo with syrup. He stared up through the hole in the roof, looking at the stars. As usual, he imagined he was camping. He liked to pretend he was camping with his siblings (because he had siblings, he was so sure he did) and that they were lying outside in a big field, surrounded by fireflies and crickets, trying to find constellations. 

Elo knew quite a lot about space, not that any adults would listen.

There were a lot less storage boxes up here now than there used to be. The orphanage was completely rundown now, a total dump if you asked him. But there were still some boxes, a crate or two. Maybe…

Elo stacked them together, under the hole in the roof. Eyes on the sky, he started to climb. 

It wasn’t nearly high enough. Try as he might, he couldn’t summon his powers to jump high enough. He jumped and jumped, nowhere near high enough or tall enough to grab onto the hole’s edge.

He jumped one last time, the pile wavered and collapsed entirely, sending Elo toppling to the ground.

Elo lay on the ground, waiting for someone to shout or one of the matrons (or the dreaded witch of a head matron herself) to barge in and give him hell. Although there were muffled shouts for him to “keep it down up there, you brat!” no one came running and the shouts stopped after that.

Huffing impatiently, Elo pushed the boxes away from himself, but he stayed where he was, arms crossed, looking at the stars.

He wondered if his family, wherever they were, were watching the stars too. He liked to think so.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Age 14…_

Elo was writing down escape plans. Baxter was gone from the orphanage for two years now; some of the other kids were snitches too, but Elo had gotten better and better at sneaking around. Surely he could climb out a window this time. 

He could fake sick and, while everyone else was having dinner, he could make a run for it. He’d tried it before but one of the cooks had felt bad for him and checked in on him, only to find him halfway down the orphanage’s wall, clinging to a sheet-rope again.

They’d started locking up the supplies after that, but Elo knew how to pick those stupid locks. They wouldn’t keep him out for long.

But then the head matron marched into the classroom with news that stopped his plans in his tracks.

“I’ve secured a job for you,” she said coldly. Elo held his writing close to his chest, all but sprawled out on top of the small classroom desk. She didn’t demand to see what he was writing or try to grab it, but you could never be too careful.

Then her words registered.

“A job?” Elo asked, head tilted.

“A job,” she repeated. “You’ll be working at Baron Plotz’s estate, which is certainly better than you deserve. Be grateful for it.”

Elo couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. A job? For him? But kids didn’t leave until they were eighteen.

“I’m fourteen,” he pointed out.

“And more trouble than you’re worth,” the head matron snapped. “You’ll be leaving in a month.” As she left, he heard her mutter, “And good riddance.”

A month. He had a month left here.

Elo straightened out his crumbled pages and looked down at his plans. A mere month…

He’d survived five years here. He could survive another month. They were willingly sending him out of the gates; once those gates closed behind him, Elo could run straight for Acme Falls…

Elo sighed and folded the pages up, heading back to the dorm. Maybe he was being crazy again; he couldn’t run off on Baron Plotz, they’d send people after him, wouldn’t they? Plotz wasn’t a matron, he was one of the most powerful men in Acme Falls. He wouldn’t take kindly to a servant running away.

The words grated at him. _A servant._ Him? No way.

Following orders had never been Elo’s strong point and he sure didn’t intended to start taking them now. He had a month; surely he’d think of something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have a Freddie Mercury Protection Squad, maybe I'd better start a Yakko Warner Protection Squad too; he sure needs one when I'm in charge 😅
> 
> Next up, we cover the day Daisy arrived

**Author's Note:**

> It begins!  
> If anyone has a scenario they really wanna see, feel free to let me know
> 
> Up next, a much fluffier chapter; in which Elo finds his fairytale book
> 
> If anyone wants to yell at me about Animaniacs, I'm on tumblr! @i-lay-my-life-before-queen


End file.
